It's a pretty normal sight to see someone running. You can usually see some strain on the face, legs moving forward one after the other, arms moving in a deliberate motion helping the runner along. Except Eric was different. He ran as hard as any other at hlete, but he didn't have arms to help him along.

On March 22, the Pima County Special Olympics held their annual games, and I was fortunate enough to be able to volunteer. I was wary at first, giving up a relaxing Saturday afternoon of watching basketball to help children with special needs, people I h ad no experience with. Yet a friend told me that it would be something that I would not soon forget. And he was right.

I worked in the best possible area. My job was to take the winners and escort them to the podiums where they were to receive their awards. On a few occasions, I was lucky enough to place the medals on the athletes. When receiving a medal, they expressed s everal emotions: elation, disappointment and pride. I can only try to describe how they expressed them - you had to be there.

On one occasion, there was a mix-up between who won a race. I had already led the young boys up on to the podium, when a coordinator told me to switch the places of the top two finishers. When I told the boys of the mistake, they switched places, and the new winner asked the other boy, "Are we still friends?" The other boy only gave him a friendly look and said, "Congratulations," followed by a high-five.

Another time when I was leading some of the winners to the podium, one of them asked me which place she had finished. When I told her third, she smiled ear to ear and gave me the biggest bear hug I have ever received. She wouldn't let go of my hand until I had to put the medal over her neck.

I learned a lot on that Saturday afternoon; more than I possibly could have learned by staying home and studying or watching basketball. I learned there are still people who take nothing for granted and appreciate everything that they get, even if it's a bronze medal in a three-person race. In a way, I found that I was jealous of the athletes. They still see the world like a child, when you accomplish something and you yell to anyone who will listen, "Look what I did!" I saw a group of people who were sel fless, cheering on their friends when they were supposed to be receiving medals. People who had no inhibitions, who could hug you or hold your hand without ever having met you.

I also saw the fatigue in the faces of the family members who take care of their athletes. They were sometimes brash, not all but a few, and you could tell that they gave everything to their athlete. They were sometimes this way because they have a very d ifficult job in raising these kids, and not many people help them. They acted the way any of us would if we were in their position. They all had one thing in common, a blessing of strength and patience that I don't have.

The thing I will remember most is the look on the faces of the athletes as they competed. It was evident from the strain on their faces that they were giving all the effort they had. It was quite a treat to spend time with people who, whenever they did so mething, gave it their all and were proud no matter how they finished. I can't say that I've met ten people like that in my lifetime, and I was able to see hundreds of them in one afternoon.

There were several groups from the university there, including Sigma Kappa sorority, Delta Sigma Pi business fraternity, Alpha Delta Pi sorority, and Pi Beta Phi sorority (if there were others there, please correct me, as you deserve the recognition). If you know anyone in any of these fine organizations, ask them what it was like to volunteer for Special Olympics. They'll probably share with you some of the most amazing stories you have ever heard and tell you that it was a memorable and rewarding exper ience.

Experiences like this are the ones that make you count your blessings, and I am now able to add one more to the long list. I can't say that it was life-changing, but it was definitely eye-opening. I also learned a motto that most of us would do well to li ve by - "Let me win, and if I do not win, let me be brave in the attempt."

Ted Dubasik is an accounting senior. His column appears every other Friday.